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Friday, April 14, 2017

Make Love While There Is Still Time


Disclaimer: This bit of writing is humour (the quality of being amusing or comic, especially as expressed in literature or speech) and therefore, it need not be taken seriously. The name of Gandhi occurs once or twice in the writing but he is not the butt of any joke. My respect for him is no less than any other person on this planet. The joke is on me, poor voter. I do not intend to mock, insult,ridicule, deride , or make fun of or otherwise show in poor light any person dead, living, or yet unborn. I respect the rights of human beings. I uphold the rights of animals as well. In short I give no offence; I am not capable of giving any offence.It is not my purpose to cast any aspersion on any religion, superstition, fad, fashion, trend, custom, movement, hair style, style of dress, or rail against any ideology, philosophy, scientific theory, and hypothesis .I have firm faith in democracy, I am not an enemy of Marxism; capitalism does not bother me because I do not bother capitalism.
I am a meat eater but if prohibited I will make do with vegetables. I love my occasional single malt but when restrained by law I seek solace in the Rubaiyyats of Omar Khayyam, reading them aloud to myself to recreate the pleasures of the fabled elixir.I believe in universal peace and love yet I am not unduly affected if Syria is bombed or there is calm in Crimea. I live in peaceful co existence with crime syndicates, corporate fraudsters, buccaneering bureaucrats, hoarders, adulterers. I pay lip service to the poor and am keen to mingle with those who are my better off. I pay my taxes, I cast my vote. I am a helpless citizen who babbles in his helplessness, hoping to reach some other kindred spirit.
I have tried to make my purpose clear in writing this piece, to the best of my ability ,and yet if I manage to convey something else, at the very outset, I tender unreservedly, and without any hesitation, an unqualified apology to my would be tormentors, to my trolls, rabble rousers, hecklers, friends who do not give a tosh for my views, foes who think it is all crap and faceless jokers who always have another point of view.
The humorous bit begins from here.( Statutory warning : Adult Content)
“Usually unreliable sources tell me that an independent member’s bill to make celibacy mandatory for all Indians, irrespective of their age and gender is under the consideration of an august body. It proposes to ban sex for people of all ages, save and except for the purposes of procreation, and for people above eighty, for the purposes of recreation. Those who have had a peek at the draft tell me that it is one of the most progressive documents, free from any bias of caste, community or gender, free from any traces of misogyny and patriarchy. The objective states that prohibition, (in certain states, but hopefully every other state will follow) ban on the consumption of beef and cow slaughter (exceptions are some states for electoral purpose) reflect the commitment of the Indian state to follow Gandhian edicts. With the legislation of celibacy the dream of universal Brahmcharya will be fulfilled .And what better occasion than to pay this tribute to the Father of the Nation than in the year of his centenary celebration; the political consensus suggests that they are all agreed that the cumulative economic effect of these moves will automatically reduce every Indian into wearing only loin cloth, the dress sanctified by Gandhi Jee.
Many a law maker who were at a loss as what to ban next jumped with joy when this bill was tabled and there was much warmth and hugging across the party lines. “What use is power if you do not have the power to prohibit or dictate or interfere with the life of a billion people and more in the most intrusive way?”a law maker told me. He even boasted that if a law was made today, prohibiting certain bodily functions, “you could do precious little. You would have gone to hell in a hand cart by the time remedy was available by way of a court order.” I dared not dare him. What they do – and what they are capable of doing – was fresh in my mind.” Humorous bit ends. JAI HIND

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